


The Girl from District 7

by orphan_account



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Hunger Games, Unrequited Love, all your favorites die, but there's actually supernatural shit going on, incorrect portrayal of mental illness, its portrayed as if he has DID, like I know this isn't how DID works, so about the mental illness thing, so pls don't murder me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 14:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16327526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In a reimaging of the 74th Hunger Games, Lorien Dirus, a boy with a dark side that whispers in his ear, teams up with his fellow District 9 tribute, an unusual Career, an annoying couple, and the girl from district 7. Is a team really the best approach to the hunger games? Can he really trust the other members? Should he let his dark side take over or remain innocent until the end?Basically just a "my OCs do the Hunger Games" but I'm putting it online because no one can stop me.





	The Girl from District 7

There was a girl speaking to me in a language I've never heard before, and yet I understood every word of it.

"Then let's play a game," she said. I tried to remember what her face looked like. I should know what her face looks like. But I don't. It's only a blur.

There were others too with blurry faces and familiar voices. The girl handed each one of us a pill.

"To forget?" I spoke in the language I don't know.

"No, to rewrite," she smiled. I wish I could remember what it looked like it.

Maybe it was real. Maybe it wasn't. But, by the time I opened my eyes and realized that it was just a dream, every little detail about the scene was gone. I was only left with the lingering feeling - the kind you get when you enter a room and forget why you came in there. It was strange, but I didn't dwell on it. I had too much to do to waste time on a dream.

"Rise and shine, golden boys," a voice was saying. It was my sister - well, adopted sister. I sat up to face to her and stretch out my arms.

"Morning, Haidy," I greeted her.

Haidy grinned, the freckles on her cheeks stretching as her smile grew. She had some folded blouses in her arms. Those were some of the nices clothes we owned, a dull reminder of what today was.

"You ready for the Reaping?" Haidy asked.

I can't wait, He said in my head. I ignored him.

"Sure," I smiled sleepily.

"I am so ready for this to be over with," Haidy said, moving to the side and giving the bed. Haidy was 18, a year older than me. This was the last year her name would be in the drawing. Haidy shifted the blouses into her other arm as she shoved the boy next to me. "Time to get up, Denzel."

Denzel groaned from under the cover. Denzel was my only brother and two years younger than me, also adopted. Haidy pulled the covers away. I felt the cold morning arm hit my toes. Exposed to the morning sun, Denzel curled up, his dirty blonde hair sticking up from the friction.

Satisfied with her work, Haidy walked into the next room to wake up the little girls. I got of bed, already longing to return to the warmth of the covers. There was a chill in the air that never fully went away, and it was especially strong this morning.

I took a deep breath and walked to the middle of the room where a full-length mirror stood. It had a crack in the middle and rust around the edges, but it was still usable. I stood there, staring at myself, not sure what was wrong. It just looked...off.

Pale blonde hair, dull brown eyes, lanky frame, the "me" in front of me looked the same as it did. So, why did it feel so strange?

I waited for the other to say something, but he stayed silent. Perhaps that was even scarier.

"You two better be getting ready," I heard Haidy's voice call from the other room.

Denzel grunted from the bed, curling up even more in defiance. I walked over to the closet and began to look for our nice clothes. We probably hadn't worn anything remotely formal since last year's reaping.

"You can stay in better a little longer if you let me have the first bath," I told Denzel.

That got him up. His head shot up and he turned to me with lowered eyebrows. "No way, it's my turn to bath first."

"If you insist," I said with a small smirk.

I heard him get out of bed and stretch as I pulled out two buttoned down shirts. "But, we still have to wait for the girls to go," I reminded him.

"Urg, but they take forever!" Denzel complained.

"There are a lot more of them," I pointed out.

"They could be a little faster," he crossed his arms and sat back down on the bed.

I grabbed some slacks and set the clothes down on the bed. Our step-parents were probably still asleep. I wondered if they were going to be up in time for the Reaping or if someone would have to go in there and wake them. That wouldn't be a fun job.

"The Reaping's today," I said.

"Yeah, I know," Denzel said. I saw him tugging at the edge of his shirt. It was a nervous tick of Myla's that a lot of us had picked up years ago.

"I'm sure everything will be fine," I said.

I hope we get chosen, the other said.

"Yeah, it's not like our names' are in there like 50 times," Denzel frowned.

"That doesn't necessarily mean anything," I tried to reassure him. "I mean, we haven't been chosen yet and Haidy's almost in the clear."

"Sounds like the perfect time to be chosen," Denzel said.

I sighed. Denzel ever the pessimist, but I didn't care. He was still my brother, adopted or not. We had to look out for each other.

After all, there was a chill in the air - a dread. It turned an average morning into a hazy cloud.

We waited for the girls to finish bathing. Normally we wouldn't have breakfast, but seeing as today was a holiday, the girls were jumping at the opportunity to cook something. I wanted to help, but they sent me for firewood, threatening me with a cold bath otherwise.

So, I spent the early morning chopping wood. The sweet scent of butter and baked bread wafted out the window as my breaths came out in white puffs. Still, after a few swings, the cold felt good. However, I couldn't bring myself to smile. There was a heavy dread over the town - the sort of dread only caused by the Reaping. That dread crept over each and every citizen of District 9 and crippled us.

Not us, the other said. We are excited.

He is excited, I corrected myself. I felt only dread.

After chopping enough wood, I headed back inside. The bathwater was cold and dirty, so Kiera was emptying the water and refilling the tub. She looked so dainty in her flower-printed dress. I worried that she would get dirt on it, but she was being careful. I put down the wood and she gave me a nod. Denzel was yelling for her to hurry up and Kiera yelled back that he could freeze.

On any other day, I wouldn't worry about them. It's just sibling banter. But, with the dread infesting every crack of the district, their words worried me. There was an edge to it - a nervous beat that you could miss if you didn't know what to listen for.

Haidy was calling me into the kitchen. I left the wood with Kiera was went to help the other girls. Haidy and Myla were trying to pat out a small fire that had started in the oven. Selah, the youngest, was standing in the corner with her hands over her mouth.

I moved quickly, grabbing the open flour on the counter and dumping it on the small flame. Myla let out a sigh as the fire went out, but Haidy just threw her hands up.

"Lorien! That was the last of our flour!" she said.

"Oh," I muttered, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," Selah apologized, tears in her eyes.

"Hey, it's okay. It was just a little fire," Myla comforted her, moving to the corner to give Selah a hug.

I watched Haidy attempt to extract the toast from the mound of flour. She made a sour expression as she brushed off the white powder, revealing the horribly black bread.

"I can eat that piece," I offered.

"No, it's fine. This is my fault so I'll eat it," Haidy said, straightening her back.

Kiera emerged from the bathroom, wiping her hands on her dress. She looked at the flour then at Selah crying in the corner.

"Do I want to know?" she asked.

"It was just a little fire," I said.

"Lorien took care of it," Haidy said, putting the burnt toast on a plate and moving to get the rest of the bread from the oven. A piece of hair fell out of her bun and hung in front of her face as she leaned over. She gathered all the bread and tucked her hand behind her ear as she stood back up.

"Are Mr. and Mrs. Dirus awake?" Kiera asked.

"I don't think so," Haidy asked, looked up at me.

I shrugged. Kiera nodded as Haidy set down the plate.

"It's your turn to wake them," Haidy reminded her.

"Yeah, I know," Kiera took in a breath. Kiera turned to me. "Oh, Denzel's in the bath right now, but you need to get in as soon as he's done. We're running out of morning."

"Okay," I said. I watched her turn towards our step-parents' room and walk off.

Haidy took a deep breath. Selah seemed to have calmed down a bit. At the very least, Myla was done comforting her. Haidy asked them to set the table and they got to work.

"Anything I can do?" I asked.

"You need to bathe," Haidy said motioning me away from the food.

"Right," I nodded.

Knowing Denzel, I had plenty of time before the bath would be open. Maybe he would try to hurry for today. I went back to our room and waited.

Alone, my thoughts returned to the event of the day. The Reaping. Two kids were going to be chosen to fight to the death today. Most likely, they would die. After all, the odds weren't normally in District 9's favor. We only had two victors in the 73 years that the games had been played. What were the chances that number would rise this year?

It might if we get to play, the other whispered.

Stars, I hope we-I don't get chosen.

After a while, Denzel came out of the bath. The water was lukewarm by now, but I didn't have to time to enjoy a hot bath. I rinsed off and did my best to scrub off all the dirt and grime that had built up. Though, I doubted I would ever get it all off. Cleanliness was just another luxury we could never afford.

I got out quickly and got dressed. The slick fabric was so stiff and unfamiliar. It wasn't the most expensive shirt in the world, but to me, it was no different from gold. I moved to the mirror again, doing my best to ignore the feeling of utter wrongness as I combed my hair back.

By the time I made it back to the kitchen, everyone was already seated.

"Lorien, it's about time," Mrs. Dirus said with a scowl. "Come on, sit down, the food's already cold."

"Yes ma'am," I responded, taking the empty seat.

We ate as Mr. and Mrs. Dirus talked on and on about how boring the day was going to be. They had no concern for our safety. Well, perhaps that wasn't true. After all, if one of us got chosen, the government wouldn't give them as much food. How tragic.

We would be better off if they were dead, the other said. We can do that, you know.

I ignored him.

Us children kept our mouth shut, choosing instead to enjoy our food in each other's silent company. In honor of the holiday, Haidy had toasted the bread with a little sugar. It was a simple change, but I loved every bite.

After breakfast, it was time for the main event: the Reaping. We walked with the rest of the crowd to the center of town where a stage had been set up. Selah was looking nervous. It was her second reaping, but she still wasn't used to the pressure. I hung back and wait for her to catch up to me. When she did, I offered my hand to her, with she took gratefully. She gripped my hand tightly the rest of the walk.

We signed in and were sorted by age and sex. I stood in a line of boys my age. Being the tallest of the group, I found myself leaning down awkwardly. The wait was the worst part. The dread grew in each and every one of us, bouncing off each other and stirring up even more dread.

But the great thing about time is that no matter what you do, it eventually passes. And, eventually, the wait was over. Our capitol representative, Valeria, came onto the stage, dressed in the strangest dress I had ever seen - which was impressive since she wore something utterly strange every year. She had really outdone herself this year. It was like she was wearing an optical illusion.

She gave a short introduction in a moody voice and then played the same video they make us watch every year. Thankfully, it was a fairly short video. Then, it was time for the actual reaping.

I found myself tugging at the edge of my shirt. There was a stirring sensation in my stomach - but whether it was fear or excitement was hard to decipher. I just knew that I didn't want any of my sibling's names to be drawn. The other may want me to be chosen, but at least we could agree on that. I held my breath as Nora's hand rummaged through the girl's names, reaching down the bottom of the bowl. She grabbed a slip of paper and slowly pulled it out. Barely a breath was breathed as the crowd waited to hear the name of the first tribute this year.

"Ramira Holland," Valeria read.

Thank the stars, I thought, letting out a breath. My sisters were safe another year. The silence broken, the crowd began to murmur and look around for the girl. The name sounded vaguely familiar. It wasn't any of my sister's friends, or at least, none of their acquaintances. A moment passed, and a girl walked out of the crowd. She had dark hair pulled back in a tight bun. Her eyes looked forward with a determination I had never seen in a freshly chosen tribute. Well, not from District 9 anyways.

She held her head high as she walked to the stage, introducing herself to the crowd. Her face looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. I've probably seen her around school, I thought.

It will be fun to watch her die, he said.

I could picture it. Her proud head chopped off an on a stick in the middle of the forest. Her determined fists pale and dripping with blood. Her long hair ripped off and tangled. I blinked, trying to drive the image out of my head. It lingered for a bit longer before I was able to focus again. Valeria was digging in the boy's names now. Anything but Denzel, I thought.

Valeria pulled out a slip of paper. She walked over the mic and opened it up. With a smile, she looked at the crowd.

"Lorien Dirus," she read.


End file.
